A Reflection of Lies
by NijiOnna
Summary: There's something about Ryou Bakura that is different. Ryou can see this, so why can't his friends? Maybe they can see and they're just lying to him... Why would they do that? They shouldn't lie! Who is that person staring back at him? A nightmare? Himself? Or a fragment of insanity? Sequel to Denial's Lustful Illusion. BxR Tendershipping.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh or any of its characters. I make no profit from this work.**

Ryou Bakura had slowly come to realise an unfortunate fact over the last two weeks.

People liked to lie to him.

He had no idea why this was the case, but it hurt him deeply. What had he done to make his class mates hate him so? Or, at the very least, dislike him enough to not answer him truthfully when he asked? He didn't think he had done anything wrong... Mostly when he went to school he would head straight to his desk and just sit there, waiting for the first bell to ring. Malik would always rush over and divulge in his habit of sitting on top of said desk and chat away happily to him, despite having placed 'dips' on the desk next to Ryou's own at the beginning of the school year. Sometimes a few other students would wonder over to him too, though always the same few students. One was a cheerful brunette girl with a kind smile and pretty blue eyes. Beside her would usually be another cheerful classmate, though he came across a tad more shy than the outgoing female. He was smaller than Ryou with a daring hairstyle that consisted of large spikes and no less than three different coloured hair dyes. The final two were the duo once dubbed as the class bullies, though he had never had any problems with them himself. It wasn't that he wasn't an easy target, he himself was very timid with an unusual hair colour of platinum blonde, practically white, along with a slight British accent that had him painfully stand out from others. The bouncy blonde boy and his chestnut-haired friend hadn't said a single cruel word to him however, and he long ago suspected that the reason for this was because of Malik. The boy with golden locks and sun-kissed skin could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be and, for whatever reason, he stuck like glue to Ryou. Ryou was always thankful to have such a good friend by his side. The duo in question had long since turned into x-bullies however and were now in what seemed to be a tight friendship with the before mentioned classmates.

Though he didn't know these students as well as he knew Malik, he still spoke to them in an easy-going, polite manner, and engaged them in conversations that you would expect to hear between friends. They in turn did the same. Ryou could easily copy their smiles and laughter.

But then one day, they started lying to him.

#

Ryou had come in to class, sat in his chair and then waited, as usual, for the first bell to ring. Very quickly the small, spikey-haired student had walked to his desk, a contagious smile on his face that, would it have been aimed at anyone but Ryou, would have received an equally as genuine smile in return.

"Hi Ryou!" a cheerful Yugi Mutou greeted.

"Hey Yugi," the corners of Ryou's lips twitched upwards to mimic the way Yugi's own had. He watched quietly as the boy dragged a chair up to his desk and sat down.

"Malik not coming in today?" the smaller questioned when he noticed the Egyptian student was not sat on the pale youth's desk.

"I guess he's a bit late. Wouldn't be the first time, right?" Ryou answered in good humour. Yugi laughed at the very truthful reply.

"Yeah!" Yugi continued. "I swear, sometimes he's as bad as Jou when getting to class!"

"Hm, I guess they'll be able to share detention together at least?" Ryou offered jokingly and Yugi smiled wider and nodded his head in agreement. Ryou was about to continue, let the brief conversation travel its natural course before class started, when a thought struck him. "Actually, I almost didn't make it to class on time myself." A lie if there ever was one. Ryou Bakura was never late to class, sometimes arriving up to an hour before the first bell. His house... he had no reason to stay their longer than he needed to. He left as soon as he was able. Yugi didn't seem to notice the unusualness of his comment however. The other merely looked at him a little more curiously, the smile still on his face. "I was running so late I didn't even have time to brush my hair! It looks so scruffy, doesn't it?"

More lies. Ryou Bakura always tried to look neat and tidy for school. He had brushed his hair. He had brushed it with such persistence that morning that it had felt perfectly smooth, that the bristles on his hairbrush had become warped and worn. However, Yugi didn't need to know that. If Ryou had told him that then, out of pure kindness, Yugi would say—

"Really Ryou?" Yugi questioned with surprise. "But your hair looks great! It's always shiny and smooth, not messy at all... and you didn't even brush it?" Yugi then frowned. "I wish my hair was that easy to deal with. You wouldn't believe how long it takes me to style—!" Suddenly Yugi stopped, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Ah, I sounded a lot like a girl just then..."

The smaller boy was lost in his embarrassment for a moment, but Ryou wasn't listening. He'd stopped as soon as Yugi lied to him. Why? Why would his friend do that? Was it still out of kindness? A white lie? Ryou had admitted the state of his hair beforehand though; he didn't think Yugi would need to be so polite about it if he had already said something about it first. Yugi had looked so honest when he said it too. It was mean. How could Yugi make it look so convincing? Ryou didn't think he was the type to easily lie. He'd obviously been mistaken.

The bell at that moment rang at its scheduled time, and Yugi, still feeling slightly awkward at his previous comment, more so at Ryou's silence, jumped up and hurriedly made his way to his desk, dragging his chair with him. He shouted a quick 'talk to you later!' over his shoulder that never reached Ryou's ears. Likewise the happenings of the rest of day didn't seem to reach Ryou's eyes.

#

Three days later, Ryou Bakura had tried again. The first class that morning had been P.E, and Ryou was sat on a bench wearing a plain white T-shirt with a simple collar, along with a pair of plain black shorts and a pair of white trainers on his feet. The bench was against the far wall of the school's hall, leaving room for the mass of male students to play football while it rained miserably outside. After a few minutes of sitting there their teacher, who stood in the center of that rowdy mass, blew his whistle. Jounouchi, who got a little bit too much into what was supposed to be a friendly game of football, was then seen trudging off to the sidelines and out of the game, an angry shout of 'That wasn't a foul! It's not my fault his reactions are painfully slow!', along with a 'One more word and I'll have you out of this hall and back in detention!' following him as he left.

Eventually the grumpy Jounouchi reached the bench Ryou sat on and flopped down by his side. "Jeez! Fucking Takeshi. He has it in for me I swear!" the energised other exclaimed unhappily.

"You ok, Jou?" Ryou asked simply. There wasn't much else he could say, unless he wanted to join in on bad mouthing their teacher. Ryou, polite young man that he was, preferred to try and change the topic of conversation instead.

"Eh? Oh, yeah yeah, I guess..." Jounouchi begrudgingly tried to push his anger to one side. "I'll get over it," the teenager sighed dramatically and then leaned back against the wall, both hands placed lazily behind his head as he let himself calm down. His honey irises then snuck a sideways glance at his companion. "Are you ok though? How come you're not joining in today?"

Ryou did not miss the slight concern he heard in the ruffian's voice. A warmth spread in his chest as Ryou felt genuinely touched. "Mr. Takeshi said I could sit out today. Though I am supposed to be watching out for when the ball goes off-side and such." Ryou gave a shrug here, suggesting he hadn't actually been paying much attention. As expected, Jounouchi grinned at the small show of a delinquent attitude. It wasn't that Ryou had done it on purpose. It was just that other things were on his mind and his concentration had slipped... "To be honest, I'm not feeling that well."

"Really?" Jounouchi's lazy demeanor changed at the confession. His hands removed themselves from behind his head and he turned himself to look at Ryou more fully. His gaze fixed itself on Ryou's form, checking it over as though he would be able to figure out what was wrong with his friend just by looking. "Why? What's up?"

There were going to be lies in his story, for sure, but Ryou would mean no offence by them. It's just that he had to know. He needed to be sure. Besides, the truth was that he wasn't feeling all that great anyway. His body felt... sore. He was finding it difficult to move about, and if he dared to run his lower back would burn... "I feel a little ill. I missed the bus this morning so I walked and got caught in the downpour coming to school. When I got to my desk I started feeling sick... I'm thinking it's the first signs of flu or something." That, on the other hand, was a pile of untruths. Ryou hadn't missed the bus this morning and so he hadn't been soaked through to the bone upon entering the school. However, Jounouchi did not share the same bus route as Ryou, and so he had no reason to question Ryou's excuse. "I'm feeling pretty bad. Even my eyes have started going red, see?"

Ryou turned his head and looked at Jounouchi expectantly. Surely, Jounouchi would be able to see it. Jounouchi was a nice guy at heart, after all. He wouldn't l—

"Your eyes look ok to me. Not red anyway. Although they do look a little unfocussed..." Jounouchi rubbed his chin as he felt the air around Ryou suddenly become much more sickly and tense. "Dude, I think we should go to the nurse's office. Now that you've pointed it out, you do look kind of ill... Whoa are you shaking!?" The taller boy quickly stood and gently grabbed Ryou's wrist, the sudden deterioration of the other's health greatly worrying him. "Come on let's go!"

Yes, Ryou was shaking, but no, not because of the previously mentioned 'illness'. However to say that Ryou wasn't feeling sick at that moment would had most definitely been a lie. Why couldn't anyone see it? Why was he the only one? No, they must be able to see it! They were lying to him! They had to be lying! He just didn't know why. He... he...

"...Yeah, ok," Ryou finally whispered back, allowing himself to be pulled from the bench. Numbly, he was dragged away from the hall, away from the noise of whistles blowing and classmates shouting to one another as they kicked around a black and white checkered ball.

Could it really be that no one had noticed? Was it possible that he really was... ill...?

#

It was the week after that day when Ryou finally gathered the courage to confront his haunting dilemma once more. He was stood in one of the school's hallways; the one closest to the science department and which was where his locker was located. A bustling of students passed by as he retrieved his books from said locker and began packing them into his school rucksack. An impatient Malik Ishtar was rocking on the heels of his feet beside him, his own bag slung over his shoulder. "Ryouuuu," Malik whined. "Come on, it's Friday! I want to leave this prison quick!"

Ryou laughed lightly at his best friend's childish behaviour. "Honestly Malik, you do this every Friday!" Ryou mocked chided like a disapproving parent. Truthfully he enjoyed Malik's behaviour. He could always make Ryou laugh, make him unwind when he became a bit too serious and stressed. However it was difficult to join in on Malik's enthusiasm for the weekend. No school meant more time spent at home... Ryou's packing slowed further.

"Ryouuu!" Malik noticed this and let out an upset moan. "You're doing that on purpose now." Malik stopped his rocking and stood still, a serious expression taking over his usual laid-back presence. "Hey it's not... it's not because of me is it?" the tanned teen questioned reluctantly, his voice much quieter as he watched for Ryou's reaction. "It might be my imagination but... I think that you've been avoiding me a bit lately..." the admission was spoken with great strain.

The rejection in Malik's voice stabbed at Ryou's heart. There was a storm of confliction devastating the insides of Ryou's chest, but still he was unsure, frightened even, on how to reply. 'You are imagining it, Malik,' was probably what he should have said, but Ryou's voice muted what his thoughts did not.

It was one lie too many.

"Hey... Malik?" It was a highly nervous start, but Ryou couldn't help it. He closed the door to his locker, locked it and then pocketed his key.

"Yeah...?" The way Ryou emitted uncertainty had Malik's palms sweating as he prepared himself for whatever was to come out of Ryou's mouth. "What's wrong?"

Ryou paused, took a deep breath, and then turned from his locker and looked Malik straight in the eye. He had to ask now. If he didn't he would have to wait until Monday again and by then he may not have the courage to do this anymore. "Have you noticed anything different about me?"

"Different how?"

The snowy-haired youth paused again, thinking on how to word it all. But no matter how many versions he came up with, it all still sounded... odd... in his head. "Does my face seem a bit more... draught, to you? My cheeks not as full? Do I look a little... taller?"

Malik would not lie to him. Yugi and Jounouchi might, but not Malik. He trusted his best friend. If there was anyone who could wipe away this maddening doubt, it was him. He would see it. He would tell him the truth. It didn't matter that the others weren't as honest, just so long as Malik was. He was Ryou's anchor in this sea of fear. Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine because Malik would tell him—

"You're worried about your figure, Ryou? Seriously?" The unease surrounding the young Egyptian had immediately dissipated at, what appeared to Malik as, petty worries. He now wore a cheeky grin. "Honestly, that's such a girly thing to worry about Ryou!" He winked at the other mischievously as he poked fun at the other. The pale teenager was no longer looking at him, instead choosing to stare at the floor, but, from the light redness he could catch underneath the platinum locks of hair on Ryou's cheeks, he merely assumed it was due to embarrassment. Malik grinned wider. "Your appearance looks fine to me, but if you're that worried then I'll just have to check..." Malik moved closer, his movements much more suggestive and the sparkle in his eye much more predatory than one would assume from a lighthearted joker.

Not that Ryou could have possibly noticed. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He struggled not to kneel over and throw up. Dizzy. He felt really, really dizzy. Reality was swimming past his vision. How? How could Malik, his best friend and the single person in this school he knew he could truly lean on for support, not see it? Ryou had put so much hope on the other, for his worry to be dismissed so easy felt like a betrayal. Didn't Malik realise how serious this was? He needed to know! He needed someone to be truthful and just tell him straight! He needed someone to tell him—!

...But then, what had he really expected? If Malik really was the good friend Ryou saw him to be, then wouldn't the other have already pointed out the obvious? Wouldn't he have already noticed that something very wrong was happening here? Wouldn't he have just told him weeks ago that—

Ryou flinched then when he felt hands roam down his sides, the heat of Malik's skin seeping through his school shirt. "Now let me see here," the blonde began in a slightly giddy voice. "Nope, same fine-ass figure!" he poked the other in the chest in jest, and then he lifted a hand to Ryou's chin. "And your face is just as—" Ryou pushed Malik away. "R—Ryou?" The Egyptian was shocked, unused to Ryou being so physical. If Ryou didn't approve of his teasing, the timid youth would usually just shy away and voice his disproval. Never, however, had Ryou ever been so upset as to push him away. If Malik thought his attentions would bother Ryou that much, then he wouldn't have dared do it in the first place.

He never wanted to upset his friend.

"You shouldn't do that..." It was less a statement and more a mumble. Ryou's voice felt slightly lost, like he himself was staring down into a dark, haunting abyss. "He'll get mad..." he whispered under his breath, only audible to his own ears. He had been abandoned. His safety rope had been cut. He could feel himself falling into the bottomless pit...

Malik had lied.

"Ryou?"

"Ah!" Ryou stumbled, was able to pull himself away from the edge for a brief moment when hearing Malik call his name. He was still in school. His eyes focused. "Oh, never mind," Ryou dismissed Malik's concern, periodically too numb to feel the pain. "I'm going to go home now." The sentence had sounded so awkward when leaving his lips. Ryou was working on autopilot.

The paler teen picked up his rucksack and placed it on his back. He started walking away. "Ryou!" Malik shouted, but did not move from where he stood. A mixture of stun and confusion momentarily rooted him in place.

Ryou Bakura gave the briefest hesitation and turned, facing Malik once more. "You... You really don't see anything wrong with me?" he questioned quietly, this time just loud enough for Malik to hear.

"I think there's something wrong with you _now_," Malik confessed, a troubled expression spread across his face. "What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?"

Ryou bit his lip, reacting to a pain that felt similar to being slapped in the face. He shook his head. That wasn't this answer he needed to hear. He turned away again and began to walk. "See you Monday, Malik," he concluded simply, expecting that to be the end of their conversation.

"Wait!" Ryou could hear the other moving closer, running to catch up. "I thought you said you were coming to my place today?"

Ryou did not stop. "I can't. Sorry, I've got some stuff to do." A flimsy excuse, but not a total lie.

"Oh?" Finally Malik fell in step with Ryou. His voice was a little uneven as he tried to read the other's complicated expression. "Should I come over to yours instead then? Maybe I could help—"

"_No_!" The force of that exclamation had Malik stop in his tracks. Ryou had turned again, his face white as a ghost as he looked at Malik with very clear, very _real_ fear. His chocolate brown eyes, usually so warm and innocent as a doe's, stared straight into Malik's soul and revealed an impossible labyrinth, one where a monster kept turning the correct corners in search of its shaking prey. Ryou. Ryou was the prey, running in circles through the dark corridors, listening to the footsteps draw closer and convulsing in his own sickening terror while he waited for the inevitable.

Malik covered his mouth, dry gagging into his hand, listening to Ryou's rapidly beating heart inside his own head.

What... What had Ryou just shown him...?

Ryou quickly turned away again. "Don't visit me. Don't come anywhere near me, Malik!" Ryou finished simply, and then he ran. Mailk shouted his name again and again, but he did not turn back. He did not stop.

Not until he reached his house.

#

Now here Ryou Bakura was, tiered from his running, exhausted from the tempest howling in his head. He stood in another hallway, this one inside his own home. He shrugged the bag from his shoulders and let it carelessly dump itself down onto the floor. There it laid, in the center of the hallway floor, as he slowly made his way up the stairs of his lonesome two-story house. There was no Mother to shout 'I'm home!' to, and his Father had not long since departed for yet another business trip. Ryou Bakura had lived this way for a long time however. He was used to it and did not doubt his busy Father's love for his only son.

Now though... The way he lived now... He didn't think he'd ever be used to this.

Once he made it to the landing he turned right, the simple furnishings and family photos of times long since passed, of people long since gone, a blur in front of his eyes as he walked to his bedroom door. He paused and raised his right arm. The shaking began immediately and Ryou's left hand darted out to grasp his own wrist. Time ticked slowly by as he waited. Finally the shaking turned into a mere tremble and Ryou allowed himself to turn the knob.

Empty, but it always was at this time of day...

Ryou stepped into the room that was decorated in simple shades of soft green, blue and white. The entire space had a very clean, calming feel that juxtaposed quiet badly to what was now its regular use. To the right was a bed with crisp sheets of white and green. It didn't look like it was often slept in. True to that observation, Ryou had only recently tried sleeping in any room inside this house but his own. However it hadn't made a difference and eventually Ryou had been forced to return to his bed. Opposite the bed some wardrobes and general storage stood, a wooden desk with a smart white PC aligned beside it. Between the left and right wall was a large window dressed only with a plain white blind. It looked out onto the quiet neighborhood below. Beneath his feet was a soft circular rug coloured in three shades of green, the rest of the floor being wooden floorboards.

Ryou moved to his bedside table. His fingers brushed over the circular pendant that laid there. Given to him by his Father, the object shone a beautiful gold. It was hollow in the middle, its round frame encasing a triangle that had a basic eye shaped into its center. Hanging from the frame were five hooks with a cone shaped trinket handing off each. At the top of the pendant was a simple loop in which Ryou had used to thread some rope, turning it into a necklace if one so wished to wear it. Ryou often used it as a type of good luck charm however, hanging it near or above his bed like some sort of dream catcher in the hopes that it would keep his nightmares away.

This was rarely the case however.

Still, Ryou cherished that pendent. His Father told him that it was an ancient relic that he found on one of his archeological digs. He confessed that it should really be in a museum, but for some reason the only option that came to mind when he found it was to give it to his son. Ryou felt very honoured that his Father had given such a rarity to him as a gift. He was always very careful with it, seeing it as his own secret treasure. He often turned to it as a source of comfort on those days he felt at his worst.

Recently the time in-between such days seemed to be getting shorter and shorter...

It was why he sought out the pendant now. He picked it up, feeling its smooth surface once more before placing his head through the rope and letting the rather heavy object rest on his chest. It was the only way he was able to gather his courage. He needed all the support he could get, even if it was from an inanimate object, to face his dread, to question all the lies.

In the corner of the room stood another object, one his gaze had swept over but which reluctantly now had his full attention. It was covered by a blanket, but from the outline of its wooden frame and the reflective glass peeking out from a lower corner where the blanket had not quite managed to conceal, one could accurately guess that it was a standing full length mirror. The youth crept forwards, as though approaching something highly dangerous and unpredictable. Ryou stopped no more than two steps away when he was made aware of the tremors taking over his body again. He desperately gripped at his pendant, willing his heart beat to slow. It was strange really, but if Ryou hadn't been so distracted by his fear he may have noticed how the ring gave off a pulsating warm glow in reaction to his shaking touch. It soothed his nerves and helped calm his anxiety. It was like being rocked within the safety of a soft quilt, the warmth of the pendant spreading to reside in every inch of his body, the echoes of a peaceful lullaby ringing in his ears as it sedated him like a strong drug.

His fear successfully lulled to sleep, Ryou surprised himself by reaching out and pulling down the blanket. So fast that it had happened, he hadn't had time to change his mind, to prepare himself for what he might see. He hadn't even had time to close his eyes in a last ditch attempt to hide away, to block it all out...

What appeared in front of him was a reflection. One would assume that the reflection would be of himself, and perhaps that was the case, but... This reflection, it looked like Ryou Bakura, but at the same time it didn't look like him at all. His hair, normally styled with a long fringe, layered a little thicker at the top and then falling into even longer tresses that reached the small of his back, seemed different. That was, it still looked like that, but wilder, more unkept. The strands that normally framed his face were pitched higher, angled almost horizontally to give the hairstyle a much more demonic look. Ryou hesitated a second before lifting his arm. His mirror image followed the movement exactly. It came into contact with the same strand of hair Ryou did, used the same two fingers to fiddle with the length that fell over his shoulder.

Yugi was a liar.

It didn't matter that he had, on previous occasions, tried to feel out those sharper strands of hair, the two horn-like shapes bulging out from what was once a neat hairstyle. It didn't matter that he hadn't felt those shapes, that his hands seemed to grasp thin air even when his reflection showed him touching the tresses in question.

A mirror couldn't lie. A human on the other hand, could.

His hand dropped, his reflection did the same. Ryou's vision raised itself to his eyes. It was this area which he found most disturbing. It was like a warped version of what he thought his irises used to look like. If the eyes really were a window to the soul like so many people claimed, then this is where he saw the most difference. He didn't recognise himself in those eyes. They were narrower, darker and much older. They projected a being that had seen many things, not many of them pleasant. Things Ryou Bakura never wanted to see. When those eyes would lock onto Ryou's on the other side of the glass, it was like looking at another person. The way they stared back at him... it was as though they were trying to pull him in. They glimmered a slight red, flashing in a predatory way that made Ryou want to run.

Those eyes frightened him. He gulped and his gaze flickered away, intimidated by his own stare...

Because, despite what his subconscious may suggest, those _were_ his eyes.

Jounouchi was a liar.

And then, finally, Ryou looked at his appearance overall. Malik... Malik had said his figure hadn't changed. He looked taller though, in the mirror. Likewise his body shape looked more defined, more muscular in places. His face took on a form more angular, more pointed and mature. Ryou moved his hand again, first to his bicep to feel the more defined muscle beneath his shirt, and then to the more pointed chin. His reflection mimicked the movements. It was possible that he'd had a growth spurt. It would make sense. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

It... It didn't matter that he couldn't feel the new muscle under his clothing, or that his clothes still fitted him like his body shape hadn't changed at all... It was still him.

Wasn't it?

Malik... was a liar?

Ryou looked down at the floor. It didn't sound right. The thought conflicted with something inside Ryou's head. The horrible doubt began to hurt again... but what was the alternative? If Malik hadn't lied to him then... was it possible that... was it possible that Ryou had gone...

Ryou felt his eyes water. Confused, he looked up at the mirror again.

His reflection stared back at him, its body poised in the same position as his own. He felt a tear begin to form above his eyelashes and he started to raise his hand to wipe it away, when suddenly he stopped himself, both his and his mirrored hand hovering at his cheek.

His reflection's eyes were dry.

He froze, stared, waited, and then finally, finally...

The corner of his mirror image's lips crept upwards.

...mad?

Ryou choked and then desperately tried to move. He let out a helpless cry when he realised he couldn't, frozen in the same position as though time itself had stopped. His reflection lowered its arm, and in the midst of his silent hysteria, Ryou didn't fail to notice that his own arm copied the action, now hung at his side. The terror at this realisation was quick to show on his face. His eyes were wide and his bottom lip trembled as he begun to understand the full gravity of his situation.

He no longer had control over his own body.

Those red eyes fixated themselves on his own. They possessed him, hungered for him like a starved wild beast about to devour a tiny animal. "Please..." Ryou began, unable to look away as the other forced him to stare back. "Please let me go!" A pitiful plea, one he had tried many times in this very room, to this very reflection, but always, _always _had he received the same reaction, the same doomed feeling of falling, of being smothered...

His reflection grinned, two animalistic, fang-like incisors being revealed like a curtain being raised on the horrific part of some twisted magic show. It was the climaxing moment in which a young girl would scream as she was being sawn down the middle, her body shown to be split in two and yet still moving grotesquely at her command...

The reflection shook its head, and when it moved its arm again, Ryou's own arm moved along with it.

Ryou panicked as his right arm, completely against his will, moved in front of his pelvic area. He looked down at himself in horror, watching his limb as though it was a snake slithering down his body, the tiniest of movement enough to make it strike out and bite him at any moment. His chest rose and fell in time with his heartbeat, hyperventilation threatening to thin out his air supply. He looked back up at the mirror. His doppelganger's eyes hadn't moved. The red orbs swirled with a burning heat, its demeanor calm and completely controlled. The grin was still in place, but this time a tongue, which could easily have been forked, dragged itself slowly over its bottom lip. Ryou's own tongue twisted itself in an effort to speak, his eyes forever open, like a puppet unable to move its own lids.

"Stop! Stop it...!" The very fact that his mouth hadn't been forced shut, that the doppelganger had allowed him his voice, was a great cruelty in itself. For his voice served him no purpose, his words offered him no escape. They were merely sounds without meaning.

The reflection, with deliberate, pain-staking slowness, placed its hand over its own crotch. Ryou whimpered, his hand following in time with the reflection's own. Beneath his palm he felt his school trousers, the dark, rough fabric making the soft, white hand appear ever the more obscene. The heel of his palm pressed down, hard, over his clothed pubic area. The sudden pressure caused a jolt through his body and Ryou whimpered louder.

A dark laugher buzzed in his ears like that of white noise. It vibrated against his eardrums, loud and drawn out like a swarm of locus coming together in his head and then eventually dissipating. The sound made his body shudder and his knees weaken, the shock draining his energy away as though he had been crippled. If there truly was a Devil, then that sound of plague was undoubtedly his laugh.

And yet this Devil's mouth did not move. Composed and poised like a predator, it continued to stare depravedly at Ryou.

Its eyes though... Its eyes were most certainly laughing.

The possessed hand moved. It curved itself ever so slightly, the tips of its fingers angled to graze along the base of Ryou's most sensitive of areas. It toyed with him, the thumb and forefinger coming to gently draw down either side of his limp organ, searching, feeling determinedly for its shape. The frightened teen struggled against the sensation, his body incapable of squirming as seemingly both his mind and body was fondled, invaded in an act of forced pleasure where no reason, no sense, was reachable to him.

Something else though, something else _was_ reachable, and that seemed to be his reflection's goal. The demon's expression was as clear as Ryou's own as it watched; its eyes showing the same purpose a connoisseur would when creating a masterpiece, the same instinct a mountain lion had when catching the bloody scent of a wounded doe, the same air a rifleman had when staring through the lens at an unknowing target.

An unstoppable, predatory focus.

A drop of cold sweat rolled down Ryou's face.

His mirror image brought the two digits upwards again, its red orbs flashing daringly before a sudden pinch was made to the base of its length. A strangled noise was dragged from Ryou's throat at the act, his mind reeling the same way a small corned animal would when faced with no means of escape. The doppelganger unmistakably took pleasure from that sound and, as though to show its improvement of such emotional cries, sped the pace of its movements slightly. It used the entirety of its hand, rubbing up and down the crotch with a light pressure that had the fabric of his boxes create a fast, ticklish friction that was utterly maddening.

"A-Ahhh!" A louder cry burst from Ryou's lips. His expression was strained, his lips twisted as though in pain at the torturous touch his own hand subjected him too, his helpless erection increasingly more defined by a treatment most cruel in its unwarranted pleasure. "St- Ah!.. ah! Sto—...p!" A heavy, warped and animalistic growl echoed around him as though some demonic creature had crawled up from the pits of Hell, ready to pounce on and subdue an innocent soul before dragging it back into the fires to be savagely devoured. Such a soul was looking at such a creature, its possessed body not even able to close its eyes as it took in the all too apparent bulge, much larger than his own, being toyed with in the same manner as his, with a hand just as white and lean. Ryou's mouth opened, unable to simply breath through his noise as he fought for breath, those dark, crimson eyes giving him its full, unwanted attention while his body was sapped of all energy, leaving him as easily as his own cries did.

Very suddenly, the torture stopped. Ryou was given a split second of respite, of false hope, before the hand merely dove beneath his trousers, both the button and zipper taken care of in one swift movement. Ryou's eyes bulged, the sweat from his hands and the unbearable heat from his dripping erection creating a moist seal of fabric around his length as he was grabbed through his boxers. The hand clamped itself firmly around him and pulled in long, steady-paced strokes from base to tip. Ryou's body felt crazed, his voice screaming lewdly with sounds he hadn't thought possible of humans to make. Likewise the ferocity of growls followed him in pitch, his body trembling, the line of exhaustion long since crossed; the tight knot in his body grew and grew until it reached the levels of pain...

And then it suddenly stopped again, wrenched back from the white rabbit's hole as he tittered on the edge. A pressure was released, his puppet strings were roughly cut and his head lolled back, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the exhaustion overwhelmed him. Ryou collapsed in on himself, waited for the pain to hit him as gravity pulled him down.

It never came.

His mind, blank as a white canvas, allowed him a second of his bearings, a second to refocus his gaze. It was a second too many.

Strong, ghostly white arms encircled his body, seemingly having caught him before he reached the ground. Colourless hair, wilder than his own, rougher than his own, brushed near his cheek. A body, more muscular, more athletic than his own, pressed against him, half a long leg swallowed by glass. Eyes, much more dangerous, much more dominant and sharp than his own, stared down at him. An erection, not his own, dug into his thigh.

/Hikari... My Hikari.../

A voice, a voice as powerful and looming as the body in front of him, filtered through Ryou's mind. They were lowered to the floor by the taller, stronger other's will, Ryou's head maneuvered to the side and placed on top of a strong shoulder. Ryou's body hung limply, his eyes half-drowsy as he was held tightly to the other's body. Breath still entered as his chest heaved, but his energy had left him empty, a shell, a ragdoll. His arms hung lifelessly by his sides and yet a hand, much larger than his own, slipped under the waistband of his boxers and gripped his still raised length.

As his head rested on the other's shoulder, Ryou once again saw something reflected in the mirror. He saw two people, one with his back turned to the mirror and who held another closely as he kneeled on the floor. The one being held was smaller than the one who held him. He had large eyes, their colour a murky brown, their presence drained, tiered and half-lidded. His face was slightly rounded but not child-like, the innocence and life to have been expected from such a youth no longer seemingly present. His hair was long and damp, stuck to the sides of his face from an unhealthy sweat. His expression was numb, mouth slightly open as he drew for breath, his voice as silent as a doll's.

He stared straight at Ryou.

The enclosed hand moved quickly on Ryou's length, firm, squeezing to an almost painful degree before it loosened again, unrelenting. Ryou watched as that person lightly spasmed in the other's hold, his eyes fogging over further, his mouth dropping open even wider as he seemingly gave a silent scream of pain. Ryou shut his eyes, his nails digging into someone's bicep after his hand suddenly shot up. Wave after wave of forced climax took over his body.

Who was that that?

/I see you, Hikari.../

A tongue entered Ryou's mouth. It claimed, it dominated. The hand did not stop.

In retrospect, it may have appeared that instead of his friends liking to lie to Ryou, Ryou Bakura actually liked to lie to his friends.

But that wasn't the truth. That was a lie.

Who could that person possibly be?

Rather it was that, Ryou Bakura, incapable of deciphering between the two...

Ryou Bakura did not recognise that person.

...loved to lie to himself.


End file.
